Scrooge had a hard time keeping his eyes open: on several occasions he found himself dozing off while still standing, only to give himself a rough shake to wake up. If the magnate didn't get some sleep soon he was going to wind up spread-eagle on the floor, snoring away for all of his family to see. It may be a life or death situation but Scrooge still had some dignity – there was a certain image he liked to maintain, even in front of his own kin.

Eyes strained, Scrooge took off his glasses, wiping them on his sleeve as pretence. What he wouldn't give for a quick swim in his money bin, a warm bath, and a cosy bed. This adventure had gone completely awry and if the magnate had known just how dangerous this temple was, he never would have brought his family here. Glomgold, maybe, but not the people he loved. Had Scrooge expected at least some danger? Of course, he did: all ancient temples were hazardous to a degree. But this place was unlike anything Scrooge had ever experienced. The traps were so trigger-sensitive that it was like walking on eggshells, careful not to touch anything they weren't supposed to. The magnate came to a difficult decision: as much as he loved treasure, he loved his family more and therefore once they found the cure for Louie, they were heading straight for the exit. Safety came above all else.

Donald's angry squawking filled the chamber and Scrooge whirled around, putting his glasses back on. A compartment was open in the wall, displaying another false cure. That had to be the fifth or sixth one they had found so far in the last hour and it was getting tiresome. With a sigh, Scrooge made his way towards Donald.

"Keep calm, lad," the magnate said. "The children are still asleep."

Still in the midst of his anger, Donald replied with something unintelligible, jumping and arms flailing. Della marched over and smacked her brother on the back of the head. Caught by surprise, Donald abruptly stopped.

"Ow…" he said, rubbing the spot where Della had hit him.

"You'll wake up the kids!" she repeated in a harsh whisper. "Control yourself before I do it for you!"

"I'd listen to her if I were you," Scrooge advised, "because I certainly remember what happened the last time you lost your temper and she took matters into her own hands."

"I didn't forget either," Donald said. He looked at the compartment. "Another fake antidote. This is exasperating."

"We know what the rune looks like. Why do you keep pressing the wrong ones?" Della asked.

"I don't mean to. I'm so tired that everything is starting to look the same."

"As long it's not the traps that you're triggering, it's all good," Scrooge said reasonably.

"True. And I guess since that the detail separating this rune from the rest is so freaking tiny, it makes it even harder to spot it after hours of searching," Della acknowledged.

"Exactly. I think we can forgive any mistakes we make," Scrooge said. "Up to a certain point," he added tersely as Donald began to say something. His nephew promptly shut his mouth.

"It'll be time to wake the kids soon," Della said, checking her watch. "We've been going at it by ourselves for almost two hours. A nap will do wonders."

"How much time before it'll be our turn to rest?" Donald asked.

"Ten minutes."

"Can't we just start our break now?"

"No! What if we find the cure during those ten minutes? Every second counts, lad, and we can't spare a single one," Scrooge said.

"I know… I just feel like I'm about to pass out," Donald said.

"Don't even joke. I think that's one of the last symptoms of the poison," Della told him.

"I'm not joking. I honestly feel that way."

"We've got less than ten minutes to go. Hang in there."

"I'll try."

Scrooge sighed before stifling a small yawn. His niece and nephew were often hot and cold when it came to adventures: there were times they worked wonderfully together and other times they were at each other's throats, ready to throttle. This particular moment appeared to be one of mutual harmony, most likely because they were too tired to argue. If he was lucky, the peace would last until after they had slept – if he was no mood to break up a fight between Louie and Webby, he was even less inclined to deal with a quarrelling Della and Donald.

Without thinking, Scrooge leaned against the wall. He felt something shift beneath him and he sprang forward, spinning around. A stone had been pressed, carrying a symbol he did not recognise from the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. The wall next to Donald shook, causing him to bounce away with a terrified squawk, and the three of them watched as an opening formed. Glancing at his niece and nephew, Scrooge slowly approached the wall and peered inside the hole. His jaw dropped at the sight: mountains of treasure lay bellow. Glittering piles of gold, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, and precious artefacts littered the floor, a treasure hunter's greatest fantasy. If Scrooge had not been so worried about Louie he would have been jumping for joy.

Donald and Della joined the magnate's sides. Della let out a low whistle.

"Well, would you look at that: we've found the treasure," she said. "Think you've got enough room in your money bin for it?"

"What do you think?" Scrooge replied absently, staring at the treasure without really seeing it. Donald then proceeded to ask the question the magnate was thinking.

"How did we manage to find the treasure faster than the antidote? You would've thought that would have been much harder to uncover," Donald said, frowning.

"Dumb luck, I guess," Della replied. "You also tend to find stuff when you're not looking for it. Weird, I know."

"What are we going to do about it? This is what we came for."

"Nothing for now. We've got other priorities," Scrooge said.

"Exactly. Besides, it's not as if that treasure is going anywhere; it'll still be there after we've helped Louie," Della said.

Donald stuck his head inside the opening.

"That's a pretty steep drop. I hope we have a rope or something because I can't see another exit," he said.

It was Della's turn to look in.

"Yikes, you're right," she said. She looked at Scrooge. "We've got another obstacle ahead of us, Uncle Scrooge."

"Mm," Scrooge replied. This adventure had been nothing but obstacles. "Tell me something I don't know."

He glanced at his watch. "It's time to wake up the kids," the magnate declared.

"I'll do it," Della said before crossing the chamber. Scrooge and Donald locked eyes.

"Finding this treasure doesn't feel like a victory, does it?" Donald said wearily.

"No, lad, it doesn't. The price we're paying for it is far too high," Scrooge replied. "I'd rather be poor again than to lose a member of my family."

"That's quite a statement."

"It's true, though. You know I almost emptied my money bin in order to find your sister."

"And I still don't understand why you never told me that you literally spared no expenses to search for her."

"Would you have believed me if I had?"

There was a pause. Scrooge gazed at Donald expectantly.

"Probably not…" his nephew admitted.

"There you go," Scrooge said. "What was the point of telling you if you would have thought I was lying?"

"You could have tried. It might have made a difference all the same," Donald told him.

"Louie?"

Scrooge and Donald turned around. Every child was sitting up and rubbing their eyes except Louie, who had his mother kneeling by his side. Della shook her youngest son but he would not move.

"Louie?" Della repeated, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "Louie!"

She shook him harder to no avail. Scrooge ran over with Donald.

"What's happening?" the magnate exclaimed. His niece turned to him with a look of fear in her eyes.

"He's… He's not waking up!" Della cried.

"What?" Scrooge and Donald yelled in unison. The rest of the children were wide awake now and looking worried.

The magnate rushed over to Louie. The green triplet was lying on his side and not responding to his mother's pleas. Scrooge felt fear rear its ugly head, threatening to engulf him.

"Louie! Wake up, lad!" he said loudly.

Louie remained inert. Huey approached and bent over his brother.

"He's still breathing," Huey said, looking at his mother and uncles. Scrooge could see that the oldest triplet was struggling to remain calm. "He must have completely lost consciousness while he was asleep."

"Is there any way to wake him?" Donald asked, petrified. "Apart from the cure, I mean?"

Huey shook his head. Scrooge was ready to rip out his sideburns, to give up every he had to bring Louie back from the brink. Then, suddenly, Della stood up and faced her uncle. The anger that was radiating from her was unlike anything the magnate had ever seen and he took an involuntary step back, staring at her with wide eyes. Donald and the children were watching from the sidelines with apprehension.

"This is all your fault!" Della yelled.